


Do You Still?

by queensupremes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All the way to Season 3 in London (briefly), F/M, Jackson's POV, Pre-Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensupremes/pseuds/queensupremes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief re-telling of Jackson and Lydia's rocky relationship.</p><p>AKA I had New Heights and Colton Haynes' cover of 19 You + Me on repeat and it gave me uncontrollable feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Still?

**Author's Note:**

> One shot; a ton of events were left out but still, I tried to be as canon as possible.

The first time they hung out, he was 14 years old and just coming into his own. A beautiful boy on the minds of many beautiful girls, the object of adolescent affection. He knew her like he knew everyone else - last name basis, no real sincerity in a word that he said.

He called her Martin and snickered because that was a mans name. She'd glare at him before flashing a spiteful grin and walking away.

Danny had his 14th birthday party at the beach. They barbecued in the afternoon and brought their lacrosse gear to play in the sand. The girls brought their volleyballs and tanning oil, slicking up in the California sunshine.

The boys threw a ball back and forth and talked among themselves about the usual; cars and girls and how awesome high school was going to be. He'd catch glimpses of that strawberry blonde hair from the corner of his eye, could hear her infectious laugh from the line of sunbathing girls. At one point, he turned so that he was facing her and the other boys followed suit. He'd catch her eye and give her a proud grin and even from a far, he knew she was rolling her eyes.

It was sunset by the time they'd all put a bonfire together. Sitting in a circle around the pit, everyone seemed to be paired off with someone except for him. Lydia was clear across the pit and he could see her through the flames. The Stilinski kid looked like he was talking her ear off and as usual, she brushed him off completely, like he wasn't even there.

"Why don't you go annoy someone else, Stilinski?"

He was standing over them and Stiles looked like he wanted to punch him. Jackson would have loved to see him try.

McCall said they had to go, anyway. With them gone, Jackson sat in the sand next to Lydia.

"That kid clings to you like a leech," he chuckled.

"At least he has the nerve to speak," she turned to look at him, brows raised. "Unlike you, who just stands there looking cryptic with that smug smile."

He gave her the smug smile.

"You like it. I see you looking at me too, you know."

"It's an instinct. You feel like you're being watched, you look." She shrugged, nonchalant.

"Well, I think human nature would see to it that we're drawn together," he was teasing her, trying to gage her reactions to what he was putting out.

"I'm not interested in being a trophy for someone who calls me primarily by my last name, Whittemore." They way she said his name was venomous and he liked it.

"Fine, Lydia," he smirked. "What are you interested in?"

"Not you."

\--

He was 15 when Lydia finally agreed to go on a date with him. He'd just made first line on the lacrosse team, making him the youngest and only freshman to hold the position. Lest he forget also landing the spot of captain on the swim team for the winter season. Lydia seemed to have an affinity for the ones who were on top, and Jackson was certainly the one that everyone wanted. So why not?

They were together for  month before they began to be too comfortable around each other. Jackson, by then, was the king of Beacon Hills and Lydia, his queen. Then again, Lydia was a queen even without him. It was only natural that they would end up together. The tired tale of the popular jock dating the Queen Bee; they were stuck.

Long nights in spent cuddling whilst watching one of Lydia's romantic comedies soon turned into nights in with hardly any affection from Jackson and plenty of ploys for attention from Lydia. The once smart mouth she possessed was not kept under wraps. She'd turned into a ditz seemingly overnight but every once in awhile, her brain would overpower her mouth.

Sometimes he would get tired of her. He'd tease her and throw jabs, yet his possessive side would show through when he'd catch someone's eyes linger on her for too long. 

He'd never meant to be so cold to her. He'd never admit it but she made his heart race whenever he saw her. He'd catch his breath on the mornings that he'd wake up with her in his arms and wake her up with soft kisses on the back of her neck. Maybe there was love in his heart or maybe he was just lonely.

Maybe he was just beginning to crumble.

\--

He was 16 when he gave her the key to the front door of his house.

"It's a key to the front door," he says, and he kisses her shoulder and hands her the key.

"A key to your house?" and she sounds surprised, playful. "Already?"

"Well it's not a wedding ring," he teases.

Her laugh rings through his ears and he's happy, content.

"So you're just making me a more accessible midnight bootycall?"

"Midnight, mid-afternoon, mid-morning..."

She'd sneak into his bedroom in the middle of the night and the thrill of trying to be quiet so as not to wake his parents made the night so much more exciting.

He loved her in the evening but no one would ever know it during the day.

He'd just about had it with Lydia when Allison Argent made her debut.

He took an interest but he wasn't the only one. Lydia did, too. McCall did, too.

She was shiny and new and gorgeous - who wouldn't show interest?

Things started getting strange. McCall and Stilinski were acting more idiotic than usual and he knew, he knew, he knew that something was up. And when McCall started to fuck up with Allison, he knew it was his chance to pounce. He knew he could charm her, and Lydia was a thing of the past in his mind.

He made Allison his conquest, not worrying about Scott and his foolishness. If he couldn't handle her than surely he could. He kept Lydia around for entertainment, laughing behind her back at how hard she was trying to keep him. 

Maybe he loved her, maybe he didn't. Maybe he just needed to keep things fresh. Get the new girl, drop the old one. Stay on top and never look down.

And when he finally unveiled McCall's little secret, all he saw was opportunity. Opportunity to truly become king, to hone all of the power that he'd ever need. And it wanted, wanted it bad.

He was desperate and starting to unravel. He'd dropped all of his 'dead weight' and aimed for success, until Lydia found herself in trouble.

She was looking for him so maybe it was his fault, but he'd never let himself believe it.

He didn't know how to react, holding her practically lifeless body in his arms. She wasn't warm like she usually was, wasn't holding onto him like she'd done all of the other times he'd carried her.

He thought he was going to lose her and for a split second, nothing else mattered.

The hospital was brutal and cold, and seeing her laying there made his blood boil. It was Stilinski's fault for not staying with her. It was McCall's fault for making him take Allison to the formal, not that he would have taken Lydia in the first place. Naturally, all he could think about was himself. Why did she get the bite and not him? She didn't even want it. She didn't even know.

But then she'd go into shock and he'd drop back into reality.

He was cold to her once again. She scampered naked into the forest, disappeared from the hospital and he should have cared, he should have wanted to find her. A nagging little voice in his head told him that he could lose her and an even smaller voice told him that he should search - that is, until she turned up scared.

All she wanted was to show her gratitude for not leaving her on the field and he was so, so cold. But he was close to getting what he wanted and that was all that mattered.

He was something but he didn't know, and she was something but she didn't know, and she still had his key. So surely she knew and surely she was using it against him. Surely she just wanted to sabotage him. Surely she just wanted to take everything from him, like she did everything else.

And even when her own life was in danger, he was hesitant to lend a hand. Rather, he was forced. Rather, there was a small pack looking for her when it should have been him they were after. And selfishly, he asked for his key, demanded it, and she tearfully complied.

"I hate you," she said. "I hate you so much."

Maybe his eyes opened just a tad. Maybe it was due to the place that she kept his key, on a chain hanging from her neck, oh so close to her heart. Where it'd been the whole time. Maybe he was wrong to have assumed what he did.

And through her tears, he knew, he knew that she didn't. She didn't hate him and part of him was relieved. But maybe she was right. Maybe she should hate him. But she didn't and he didn't either and the crash of their lips was salvation, despite what he was becoming, despite what he was.

Even as a so-called homicidal lizard, life went on as usual. He didn't even know. And when he fell, deep stab wounds into his stomach, Lydia was the first voice he heard but was fading fast, and then he was dead.

But then he wasn't. And then he's out of control, he's after someone and someone else and they're after him and his master is down. His master is down and the crash of Stilinski's goddamn Jeep knocks him down before he's right back up - but it's her voice that pulls him back, the key that he's wanted for so long in her hands.

She's been crying, he can tell, but she's beautiful anyway.

He's on his knees and he's hurt again, but has to know one thing.

"I do," she says, and it's all he needs to hear. "I do still love you."

And he's dead again, but he's not. Such a sacrifice, wanting something so badly and having to die to get it.

But he has her once more, warm in his tight embrace, and she's all he needs.

And even in London, days away from that strawberry blonde, he still remembers her knowing smirk. The English girls, they come and go and maybe they're both over each other, but neither of them will ever forget.


End file.
